Assassination Cancellation
by StoryWeaver56
Summary: Quark still has to inform Garak not to conduct a surprise assassination on him after the Season 4 episode "Body Parts", but when Quark can't find the Cardassian tailor, the Ferengi begins to fear for his life!
1. A Minor Detail

_**Chapter 1: A Minor Detail**_

Quark strode over to Garak's shop, a bounce to his step. Despite the fact that today hadn't been one of the best days of his life—he had been excommunicated from Ferengi society, for example—he was going to live, and, even better, since his bar would to be open for business again, he was going to make a profit. And make a profit he would.

But, all the drama of the day had made him forget a minor detail: there was still the small matter of informing Garak that the Cardassian tailor actually _didn't _have to murder Quark, after all.

The usually bustling action of Deep Space Nine's Promenade was quieting down at this hour. Vendors were closing up shop, stragglers were going to their quarters for the night, and anyone who was cleared to leave the station was heading for the docking bays. Soon, the humming of the environmental systems, the occasional deep thrumming of an opening or closing door, and a general lack of noise would fill the air of the Cardassian space station.

And, then, there would be Constable Odo, wandering around during late hours, making sure no one was sleeping on the Promenade or causing trouble. Quark would try to avoid him for now. He wasn't in the mood for the usual banter they shared on many occasions and he _certainly _wasn't in the mood for being questioned on what he was doing out when everyone else was going in. While there was currently no curfew for the constable to nail the guests of Deep Space Nine with, Odo had made it clear to certain regulars of the station that being on the Promenade during late hours could be considered suspicious behavior and _would _be observed attentively. Quark was, of course, one of those regulars. He didn't know why Odo was always so paranoid about him—the Ferengi thought he was a saint compared to others Quark had encountered in his time. Nonetheless, the Ferengi bartender shuddered at the thought of what it would be like if Constable Odo really _did _have control of all that he wished.

Quark shrugged off his wandering thoughts and scurried over to Garak's shop, peering inside.

"Garak," he called. No response. Quark walked into the shop, striding between mannequins wearing Garak's elaborate creations, tables of carefully folded garments, and racks of dresses, shirts, and vests. "Garak," he called, a little louder this time.

Still, no response.

Quark was becoming impatient. It was getting late and he needed to get his sleep. He had to be up bright and early in the morning to send his shirt to that nasty Brunt. That horrible Brunt, who had taken everything he owned, everything he'd worked for… _"Just following the Rules of Acquisition," my left lobe_, Quark thought, wryly. Brunt had always resented him, and when he'd had the chance, he'd attacked Quark from all sides. It'd been either death or expulsion from Ferengi society for Quark.

Despite all his effort, death just hadn't been on the agenda for the Ferengi. Before Quark had come to this conclusion, he had asked Garak, the Cardassian spy who was suspected of once being a member of the notorious Obsidian Order, to kill him by surprise, therefore taking those last minutes of fear away from Quark. Garak had agreed to it, but Quark hadn't expected the suspense of the upcoming "surprise ambush" to be as terrifying as it was. A very significant dream later, and Quark had silently decided he wanted to live and continue to make the profit he was surely destined to make. Yes, he had broken the contract with Liquidator Brunt—even though a contract is a contract is a contract—and had tried to offer Brunt his money back with interest. The liquidator hadn't accepted, and Quark, having broken the sacred Rules of Acquisition, had been ousted.

Such was life. Quark tried his best to shrug it off and move on. Brunt could take away the shirt on his back, but he couldn't take away the fact that Quark was still a Ferengi, and he would continue to make a profit.

But, for now, Garak was nowhere to be seen.

"Garak!" Quark shouted. He'd had enough of this nonsense. He made _tsk_ing sounds with his tongue as he announced to the empty shop, "You would let a potential customer just stand here, latinum safely tucked away? What kind of businessman are you?" It was truly preposterous.

"May I help you?" Quark heard, and he spun around to face one of the dressing rooms.

To his dismay, Garak wasn't the one speaking.

"Yes, you may," Quark answered the Bajoran woman who stood there. "Where's Garak?"

The woman went up to a flawlessly folded shirt and, for reasons unknown to Quark, began to re-fold it. "He's gone home. He asked me to close up for him. He said he had something to do…"  
>Quark felt his stomach turn as realization set in. "Something to do…" he muttered, gaze falling to peer blindly at the floor.<p>

"Um, was there something you wanted him to know? I could tell him in the morning…"

Quark's head was spinning so much he barely noticed the woman before him, which was unusual for the Ferengi. Typically, Quark would be the first to become aware of this woman's curves and the first to try to get her to spend some time with him.

Instead, Quark couldn't stop staring into space, eyes wide with apparent fear. Garak was probably lurking around dark corners at the moment, readying himself for some elaborate yet completely sly murder that he had learned when he was in the Obsidian Order. Quark had watched Garak kill the holosuite simulations of him earlier—while none of the deaths had been pleasant, Quark had found himself begrudgingly admiring the skill the Cardassian had displayed. But, if Quark couldn't get to Garak soon, Garak just might use his admirable skill on him, and Quark would find himself in the Divine Treasury before his time.

His next words came out in a rush of dawning panic. "No. He has to know _now_. You don't understand. I've got to find him!"

Quark turned and rushed out of the shop, leaving the startled woman staring after him, watching as the Ferengi bartender nearly ran himself into the edge of a table in his haste. As Quark dashed onto the Promenade, barely hearing a tentative "Come again!" from the Bajoran behind him, a hand grabbed Quark's arm, stopping him in his mad dash to find the Cardassian tailor.

"And why are we rushing out of a shop right before closing time?" The familiar gruff voice was not welcomed by the panicked Ferengi.

"Odo! I don't have time for this! Let me go!" Quark kept staring straight ahead to his desired destination as he tried to yank his arm out of Odo's steel grip, but ended up failing.

"Why should I? Quark, I didn't really think you would stoop so low as to shoplift." The disappointment in Odo's voice was purely sarcastic.

"Shoplift?" Quark asked as he finally turned his gaze to the constable. He managed a weak chuckle. "I'm not shoplifting! I've never shoplifted in my life!"  
>"Hmm, I find that doubtful," Odo said. "Now, what are we hiding?"<p>

"'We' are hiding nothing! Odo, really, I thought you understood the meaning of personal space, what with all the hours you spend locked away in your office."

Odo glared at Quark, then let go of his arm. "If you're not shoplifting, then what _are _you doing? Late for an illegal transaction?"

Quark needed to get out of this mess, and quick. He needed to get to Garak.

So, he picked the words that he knew would scald the constable the most.

"What's made you so irritated tonight? Is Shakaar coming back to the station to spend some alone time with Major Kira again?" Quark knew just what would get to Odo.

Odo's eyes showed only a moment of shock, then turned hard. "I don't know what you're talking about," Odo bit out, but, despite his words, his tone had turned defensive.

"Oh, Odo, don't act like we never had that talk."

Odo folded his arms across his chest. After a moment of silently glaring at the Ferengi, Odo asked, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't lock you up in a holding cell for the night."

"You don't have any evidence."

"We'll see about that." Odo grabbed Quark's arm again and walked over to the Bajoran woman who was busy closing up Garak's shop. "Pardon me, but has Quark, here, been shoplifting from you?"

The woman peered at Quark questioningly. "I don't believe so. He came in to ask me a question, and then ran off."

"Does anything seem to be missing?" Odo asked, in full investigation mode. Quark noticed he sounded determined to nail the Ferengi tonight.

"Oh, come on, Odo! She said no, you can check the security cameras later to be sure—now let me go!" Quark was getting very frustrated with this whole situation. Sometimes, it really seemed like Odo was out to get him. All right, maybe it was all the time. Quark certainly knew he didn't deserve it, especially now.

But, he couldn't tell Odo the truth. The truth that if Quark couldn't find Garak soon, he would be a dead man. And Odo would like that, wouldn't he? Oh, Garak was probably prowling around in the shadows of Quark's quarters as he stood there, arguing over shoplifting. _Please, _Quark thought with exasperated sarcasm. _I haven't shoplifted since I was a boy. Well, maybe not _that _long ago…_

The woman standing before them shrugged. "I don't work here. I'm a friend of Garak's. He told me he had some business to attend to elsewhere and he asked if I could close down for the day. So, I don't know what would be missing if Quark _did _steal anything."

"Which I didn't." Odo glared at Quark some more, and the Ferengi could almost see the gears working in Odo's head—or wherever his cognitive abilities were supposedly located—trying to work out how to incarcerate for the night his least favorite person. Or he was just trying to figure out if for once, Quark _wasn't _doing something illegal.

Time was ticking and Odo was _still _glaring at Quark. The Ferengi decided it was time to use some heartfelt words. "Odo, I've had a bad day. You know that. I was just kicked out of my homeworld, shunned by my people. I don't have a home, anymore. I'm sure you know how that feels. I'm not stealing anything. I just want to go home so I can talk to my dear brother about how horrible I feel, and how Moogie will never forgive me." Quark tried to give Odo his best look of pleading sorrow.

For a moment, Odo looked like he wasn't going to buy it. But then: "All right, Quark, carry on." Odo's voice sounded dissatisfied as he shooed the Ferengi away. It was that, or Quark's speech had really gotten to the shapeshifter's stony heart.

Quark wasn't surprised his words had made a difference. What could he say? He had a knack for getting out of tough situations. Well, most of them, anyway.

As Odo harrumphed to himself—_that's the Odo I know and lo—hate, _Quark thought—the freed Ferengi scurried off down the Promenade, making his way to the Habitat Ring.

He _had_ to find Garak.


	2. Fear and Flowers

_**Chapter 2: Fear and Flowers**_

The room was quiet. Too quiet, even to Quark's sensitive Ferengi lobes. The apprehensive bartender crept farther into his quarters, feeling a sense of déjà vu. It seemed that, lately, every time he entered his quarters, Quark had that sense of dread that he was going to die. As his every instinct stood on end at the thought of Garak jumping out of Quark's bedroom, primed to kill him, he reflected for the thousandth time on how maybe telling the Cardassian to kill him by surprise hadn't been such a bright idea after all.

"Garak, I know you're in here!" Quark yelled out to the room. Even though the lights in his quarters were at full illumination, he still felt that the corners and spaces behind the furniture managed to sustain an ill-boding darkness to them. It was those strange Cardassian angles the entire station was made of—that was it. As of today, Quark decided he didn't like those Cardassian angles.

Quark tried to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. Garak was in here—of that Quark was positive. Where else could he be? He had been asked to kill the Ferengi by surprise, and, like any good businessman—or any man who had a job to complete—Garak wouldn't be out buying flowers at this time. He would be waiting for Quark in his quarters, lurking about for the moment when the bartender was vulnerable enough to be surprised, killing him in the process. Quark knew Garak was good—heck, that's why he'd hired him in the first place! But, now that Quark decided that he didn't need to die anytime soon, Garak needed to be stopped or Quark would find himself bribing his way into the Devine Treasury, soon to bid for a new life. Quark was satisfied with the one he had now, thank you very much.

When no unusual sounds reached Quark's large lobes, he decided it was time to take action. He glimpsed around the room, looking for something heavy. Something—anything…there: Quark scurried over to a small table that held a Tarkanian vase—it had been a rather expensive one, too, he thought. Oh, well, he would just have to deal. Yes—he would deal on a better vase for a better price later on, when this whole mess was over.

Quark picked the vase up, realizing it was even heavier than it looked. He could feel the intricate swirling textures of a handmade design… Quark gritted his teeth as he tried not to think about just how valuable this vase really was. If everything worked out, the vase would be put to a good cause: the cause of saving the Ferengi's life.

"Garak…" Quark told the room, almost in a singsong voice. "Come out and talk with me. And then you can kill me." He wasn't sure how dead-set on killing him Garak had become—Quark thought it was better if he assumed that the Cardassian wouldn't leave until his job was finished. Quark had gone from employer to assassination target in both of their minds. Now, as the target, there was probably nothing he could say that would keep Garak from finishing his job. Quark remembered that look on Garak's face when Quark had asked to be killed without any knowledge that his death was coming. And those words Garak had spoken, dripping with maliciousness: "You'll never know what hit you." Yes, Quark had been a dead Ferengi ever since he had made that silent transition from employer to victim, and Garak probably recognized that, too. After all, Garak _was _a Cardassian.

It hadn't occurred to Quark that maybe he was being too paranoid. Not when his life was on the line.

Quark crept into the room, eyes large, waiting for any movement, sound, _anything _that would indicate where Garak was hiding. "Garak…" he called again, hoping the Cardassian spy would reveal himself soon. Quark's heart was pounding so ferociously he felt it was going to pop right out of his body. His adrenaline was on high, turning Quark from the sophisticated businessman he considered himself, to a fearful, animalistic being. He was _not _going to die today!  
>Out of the corner of his eye, Quark noticed a shadow move, sending a rush of panic through his being. Letting out a terrified war cry, Quark jumped over to the shadow and hurled the vase at it. "Ahhh!" he yelled, all his adrenaline, fear, and panic feeling as though it were seeping out of him with the cry. The vase crashed against the wall and fell in pieces to the ground, leaving the Ferengi panting before it, staring at nothing but a broken, very expensive vase on the floor. No Garak in sight.<p>

Quark stood frozen, fists clenched, gasping for air. As soon as he realized what he had just done, he sank to the floor, miserable. "My vase…" he gasped out as he picked up a broken shard. "All the latinum I was going to make from selling you…all the latinum…" Quark would have cried right then if he hadn't remembered that Garak was supposedly in his room, still waiting in shadows to kill him.

No, Quark thought. This was ridiculous. The room was bright enough to show Quark that Garak wasn't there. Quark had just broken his vase for nothing.

The adrenaline seeped out of Quark's system, leaving him feeling exhausted. He cradled a pink, swirling edge of the vase in his hands, imagining that a hole had just swallowed up a stash of his precious latinum, leaving the Ferengi nothing but a pile of rubbish on the floor. That's basically what had just happened.

Shaking his depressing thoughts aside, Quark stood up. Garak was still somewhere on this station, out to get him. Garak _had _to be stopped.

In a surprisingly quick movement, Quark turned and ran out of his room, barreling down the hall toward his brother's quarters.

"Rom!" he yelled before he was even halfway there. "Rom! Open up!" Quark started desperately pounding on his brother's door, hoping the action would make his dawdling brother hurry up. "Rom!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Quark heard Rom yell from within. The Ferengi maintenance engineer never seemed to be good enough for Quark.

The door in front of Quark swished open, revealing Rom dressed in his shimmering, ivory pajamas, tooth sharpener in hand. Quark glanced in disdain at his brother's nightwear. He'd never liked those pajamas.

"What is it, brother? What's wrong?" At least Rom had the good grace to look concerned.

"It's Garak! Have you seen him?" Quark's red-toned hands clutched the doorframe around Rom.

"Uh…Garak? I…I last saw him on the Promenade. At the other end from where your bar is. I…I was just there. He might still be there if you—run." Rom wasn't oblivious to Quark's panicked state, which only made his stammering worsen.

"Promenade? But I was just there," Quark said, mind working quickly. "'At the other end from where your bar is'? Can't you be more specific?" Quark practically shouted at his brother. He had no time for Rom's dim-wittedness at the moment.

Rom clamped his mouth shut, as if wishing his anxious stammering would go away. Then, after a moment of looking hurt and upset, Quark was surprised at Rom's next comment.

"You never told Garak not to kill you, did you, brother? He's still on the hunt for you?" Rom's tone held more contempt than compassion.

Quark was taken aback by how quickly his brother had caught on. Right when Quark was about to tell him that it wasn't any of his business whether a Cardassian spy was running around the station waiting to kill him or not, he stopped himself. Quark was pretty desperate at this moment. Maybe it would be wiser to use a different way to speak to Rom.

"Yes," Quark admitted. "I didn't tell him, Rom. I was all concerned about…other things."

"I know," Rom interjected, all signs of contempt having faded from his voice. Even though Quark considered it a weakness, Rom loved his brother, and the feeling always left Rom unable to stay angry at his brother's rudeness for long. Such feelings of compassion and sympathy had, many times, made Rom the receiver of numerous hurtful and abusive comments from his brother. Despite this fact, Rom—while sometimes finding the courage to fight back—would always do anything for Quark. Especially if it meant saving his life. He had never wanted Quark to die for a stupid Ferengi contract, anyway.

"Now," Quark said, slowly, realizing that Rom was looking better able to tell him where he had just seen Garak. It was like pulling teeth, trying to get information out of his dull brother. "Can you give me more description? The Promenade is a large place, Rom."

"Um…" Rom thought for a moment, eyes looking up and to the side with the effort, one snaggletooth having escaped the confines of his mouth, settling against his upper lip. The moment was long enough to practically kill Quark from anticipation. He could almost see the electrical impulses in his brother's brain moving slower than a snail about to be processed and crushed into snail juice. "Near Jop's kiosk. Yes. Near Jop's kiosk."

Quark was already halfway down the corridor by the time Rom had finished repeating his first sentence. Rom shrugged, peeked his head out of his room, and yelled, "I wish you well, brother!" then turned back into his room, tooth sharpener once again sent into action on a stubbornly flat tooth.

Quark sprinted down the hall, wasting no time. The longer he stayed in one place, the sooner Garak could get to him. Quark wouldn't allow Garak the pleasure.

Quark barreled onto the Promenade, praying to the blessed Exchequer that today wouldn't be his last day. Oh, he would find Garak if it killed him.

But, hopefully it wouldn't go that far.

Out of the corner of his eye, Quark noticed some vendors bustling about, still closing down. Most had left the Promenade and headed in the direction of their quarters, some were still cleaning up, and a few were allowing customers last minute purchases before closing down for the night. Because of this, there weren't many crowds; Quark could only be grateful for this. He would be able to find Garak faster if he didn't have to rush through a crowd, searching for the Cardassian amongst the many surges of aliens that the Promenade experienced daily.

Of course, Quark couldn't help but be worried about the fact that this meant Constable Odo would only have an easier time finding Quark again, waiting to begin his endless interrogation about why Quark was still out on the Promenade, looking anxious and rushing about.

_Let him_, Quark thought. At that moment, Quark decided he didn't give two bars of GPL about the ever-watchful constable. If Odo pulled some reason out of the air to detain the Ferengi for the night, Quark wouldn't fight it. At least that meant he would be safe in a holding cell for the time being.

As soon as Quark had reached the other end of the Promenade, adrenaline rushing through him, panting at the exertion, he looked around for Garak. The Cardassian had to be here somewhere. He couldn't have left already, could he?

And, about thirty paces before Quark, was Garak, standing in front of Jop's kiosk, looking as if he were having a pleasant conversation about needlework, or some such. A polite smile lit his rough Cardassian face; an engaged glimmer illuminated his pale blue eyes.

And, to Quark's astonishment, of all things to be doing right now, Garak was buying flowers.

Instead of letting out all the emotions, all the tension he had been holding, pent up inside of him at the thought of Garak hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce, Quark just stood there, panting. He barely noticed that his stiff Ferengi jacket had somehow managed to crinkle itself around his shoulders from his sprint across the Promenade. All that was on Quark's mind was the chaos that he had been through in the last seven minutes. He had hurried so quickly to make sure he could keep his life tonight. He had broken his costly vase. He had worried about a surprise death at Garak's hands, and _this _was what Garak had been doing all along? Buying _flowers_?

All Quark could think was how the Cardassian spy was a _horrible _assassin.

Garak grabbed the bouquet he had just bought from Jop, spoke his farewells, and turned to walk down the Promenade. At the sight of the disheveled, dazed Quark, standing in the middle of Garak's path, the tailor called, a pleasant expression on his face, "Well, hello, Quark! I've just returned from my annual physical. On your way to your quarters for the night?"

Quark stared at the Cardassian. The flowers in his hand, the smile on his face…all of it seemed so unbelievable to the bartender.

Instead of answering Garak's question, Quark said, voice dangerously low, "Why do you have flowers?"

Garak's pleased expression turned to one of confusion at the query. He peered down at the flowers, then back up at Quark. "I had some extra time after my checkup and decided I wanted to make my quarters more inviting," he answered. After a few seconds of silence between the two, Garak asked, "Is there a problem?"  
>Quark couldn't believe his lobes. "Is there a problem?" he repeated. "Is there a <em>problem<em>?"

Garak was starting to look worried. He glanced left and right, eyes wide in confusion, as if wondering why Quark was repeating his question.

After a couple more seconds of an awkward silence, Garak opened his mouth, a response ready on his lips. But, before he could speak, Quark interceded with an even more puzzling question for the tailor. "Why aren't you going to kill me?"

This was truly getting out of hand. Garak was starting to get worried for Quark's sake.

"Kill you?" he asked, making sure he's heard right.

Quark nodded his head slowly.

Then, it dawned on Garak.

"Oh!" he responded. "But, you are free from your contract, isn't that true?"

Quark was still in a daze. All this anxiety… He nodded his head at Garak's question.

Garak glanced around the nearly empty Promenade, then back at Quark. He continued in a quiet voice. "I thought you wouldn't want me to kill you anymore since you broke your contract."

Quark stayed there, unmoving, staring up at the Cardassian clothier, his head spinning. Then, he understood. Garak had heard the news that Quark had broken his contract with Brunt and had concluded that the Ferengi would not need a surprise murder scheduled anymore. Garak hadn't been prowling around in dark corners all along, dead-set on killing the Ferengi. He had heard the news and had come to a conclusion so as to avoid the unnecessary—and deadly—consequence of a miscommunication. Garak was a perceptive man.

Garak stared back at Quark, looks of worry and confusion having completely overcome his formerly pleasant expression.

"Did I think wrong?" Garak asked, unsure as to what was in the Ferengi's head at the moment. "Do you still want me to pursue the assassination?"

Quark, not even blinking, answered the innocent inquiry with a mere, "No." Then, still dazed, he simply turned around and headed down the Promenade, in the direction of the Habitat Ring. Quark could only think about how he had completely underestimated Garak's intelligence, sending himself through such a panic. Quark sighed to himself and rubbed his temples. All this stress, all this worry… He decided that he would spend the rest of his night alone and in the comforting presence of his secret stash of latinum, hoping the golden ingots would help him recover from all the unnecessary drama and suspense of the evening.

Garak stared after Quark for a moment, wondering what all that had been about. Then, he shrugged and peered down at the flowers in his hand, marveling at how brilliant the blossoms were.

With that thought, the Cardassian tailor strode off down the Promenade, wondering where he should place the flowers once he arrived at his quarters.

* * *

><p><em>I hope this story made you laugh! I like posting a silly story now and then. Poor Quark. Yeah, I put him through the emotional wringer in this one…of course, as soon as I had finished watching "Body Parts", the first question on my mind was, "What about Garak? Does he know that Quark's called off the surprise assassination? What if he doesn't know?" And, "Assassination Cancellation" was born!<em>

_Thank you for reading and please send me a review to tell me what you think! :)_


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